Skyscraper
by minchedder
Summary: New York City, the city that doesn't sleep, the city of dreams, busy and bustling, day and night... but Chandler couldn't remember feeling more alone. He will bring her home. Even if they think he's crazy. He will bring her home. Mondler. Please read and review.
1. Epilogue

**Skyscraper**

_Right, I realise that you're probably thinking, 'hey, Minichedder keeps dropping off the face of the planet, then appearing with a new story', well, you wouldn't be entirely wrong, would you? I'm sorry I keep leaving you, and then coming back, I'm like a very irritating boomerang aren't I?_

_Well, anyway, 'Protecting an Angel' and 'Class' are both still in the pile of stuff I need to do, but, 'The Beauty of it', I have the worst case of writers block, so that's been put on hold for the time being._

_Okay, so this story was born from many ideas. Firstly, I saw the advert for Matthew Perry's new show, Go On, where he loses his wife, and me being such a big friends fan thought of Monica, and how Chandler would be if Monica died... Then, I had this weird dream where this guy (some random person, no idea who he was) went missing, then I had this huge need to write something all angsty and dramatic... so, in short of it, I came up with this idea- I can't say much more, 'sept please give it a go, please do. I know this chapter will likely throw some of you Mondler fans off, but they won't all be this sad and angsty... And you might like it. It is Mondler, and hopefully, you'll all want to read it. Please give it a chance, it isn't as bad as it sounds._

_I still do not own friends- and once again, apologies for mistakes with spelling, English is not my native language._

**Epilogue **

His fingers trembled uncontrollably as he flicked the small silver lighter on with his thumb repeatedly, trying desperately to shield the small golden flame from the evenings bitter wind long enough to light the cigarette. Finally the flame danced around the end of the lighter long enough for Chandler to light yet another one of his cigarettes. Looking down at the empty streets below him, Chandler took a long drag from the cigarette, breathing in the fumes like it was oxygen, he inhaled slowly, allowing the smoke to fill his lungs and momentarily ease some of his pain. Gripping the edge of the balcony for support, Chandler exhaled slowly and the white-grey smoke left his lungs and floated off into the air, polluting it with its foul smell. A wind blew through his unkempt hair as he coughed dryly, he observed New York miserably, in the city that never sleeps, busy and bustling day and night; but Chandler couldn't remember feeling more alone.

"Smoking again, seriously?"

Chandler squeezed his eyes closed tightly and his fingernails dug into the course, rough edge of the balcony as he gripped it harder. Why couldn't they leave him alone for once?

"What do you want, Rachel?" Chandler asked, without turning around or opening his eyes, "Leave me alone," he said, in a tone that was a cold and empty as the night around him.

He heard her heels clicking against the concrete as she approached him, she came to his left and he turned away from her, not in the mood for another lecture.

"You know what we want," she sighed softly, he tensed as her hand brushed against his and she attempted to prise the cigarette from his unwilling fingers.

"Leave me alone," Chandler said gruffly again.

"Come inside, Chandler, its freezing," Rachel said, "And you know that she hated you smoking, even more than I do."

Chandler extinguished the cigarette against the wall of the balcony before tossing it over the edge, "Happy now?" he asked sardonically.

"You know I'm not," Rachel said, "None of us are, but what you're doing, it's- it's not healthy, Chandler."

"I don't give a shit about healthy anymore, Rachel," Chandler said, "Leave me alone."

Rachel sighed again, "Sweetie, it's been four months."

Chandler shuffled away from her slightly, still squeezing his eyes closed, "What's that got to do with anything?"

"You know what I mean," Rachel said sadly, "Chandler, honey, she isn't coming back."

"She is-

"Chandler, she isn't," Rachel argued, sounding miserable and sympathetic, " Monica isn't coming back, she's dea-"

"Don't say it," Chandler shouted, cutting her off before she could finish what she was saying. His eyes opened again to reveal two tired, bloodshot and dull blue eyes, he shook his head."Don't you dare say it," he repeated.

Rachel bit her lip and walked towards him slowly, "Honey, she's gone... And-and she isn't coming back."

"You don't know that," Chandler looked at her, staring into her eyes for the first time. He looked older, so much older, with a rim of puffy red skin around his eyes and the gleam gone from within the blueness, it broke her heart to see him like this.

"Chandler," she said slowly, "Monica isn't coming back. They found her car and-"

"They didn't find her," Chandler interrupted her again. "Monica isn't dea-" he stopped abruptly and closed his eyes, "She hasn't gone, she's still out there somewhere," he continued after a few moments, his voice softer and more vulnerable than before.

"When was the last time you slept, Chandler?" Rachel asked. He shrugged.

"Come back inside and sleep, okay?" Rachel said softly, he shook his head in defiance, "Come on, we're worried about you."

Chandler scoffed, "Leave me alone, Rach, please."

Rachel remained persistent, "No, Chandler," she said, "You need help or something, Monica isn't coming back."

"She is," Chandler argued, "They never found _her, _just a bunch of her stuff."

"You heard what the police said, we all did," Rachel said, "There was enough evidence, she ran away and-"

"No, she didn't," Chandler shouted at her, Rachel stopped in her tracks and took a step back from him, "Does that sound like something Monica would do?"

"Chandler."

"Does that sound like something Monica would do?" Chandler shouted again, tears now flowing freely down his face, Rachel shook her head slowly. "Exactly, Monica wouldn't leave me like that," Chandler said, "She didn't pack a bag, or quit work or-or anything, we had dinner plans for the night at her favourite restaurant, her clothes were laid out on the bed," he shouted, by this time, Rachel was crying too.

"Okay, so she didn't run away, but she _is_ gone, Chandler," Rachel said tearfully, "They found her car, all her blood and-"

"They still didn't find her," Chandler shouted, "Monica isn't d-" he couldn't finish the sentence, her ran his fingers through his hair, "I know my wife, she isn't-"

"Yes she is," Rachel shouted, "We don't want to know it, but we do, Monica is-"

"No she isn't," Chandler yelled, crying on the verge of hysteria, "Why is everyone so willing to say goodbye?" he asked.

Despite trying to remain calm with him, Rachel's temper flared, "Don't you say that," she shouted at him, "We all loved her, we all still love her, but she _is_ gone, Chandler."

"If you all love her, why am I the only one who still looking for her?"

"Do you think that if there was even the slightest bit of hope that Monica is still out there, we'd do something?" Rachel asked, furiously drying her tears so she could look at Chandler, "You need some kind of help."

"I don't," Chandler said quietly, his voice was breaking slightly as he struggled to breathe through the tears, "If she really was gone, they'd of found a body, but they didn't. People don't disappear of the face of the earth, Rachel."

"I know," Rachel said, she took a deep breath and walked over to him again, "I know, sweetie, but people don't go missing for four months after losing that amount of blood in the middle of nowhere, then come home," she touched his shoulder, "Chandler, Monica _is_ dead."

Chandler pushed her away, "No she isn't," he said, "Go away, Rachel, get out."

"Chan-"

"Get out," Chandler shouted, pushing her back towards the apartment.

Rachel climbed through the window and looked at him, "What happened to you, Chandler?" she asked, "I hate to be so blunt Chandler but, but you need to look at the facts, Monica is dead, you can't- you can't go on pretending anymore, it's not doing you any good."

"Get out," Chandler shouted again, Rachel shook her head and walked off, leaving Chandler alone. He sat on the balcony floor and cried, twisting his wedding ring around in his fingers. Monica wasn't dead. She couldn't be. She was out there somewhere, and he will find her.

**...**

_I __**know **__that some of you aren't going to like this- but, please give me a chance. Come back for a few more chapters, and you might find you like it. Who knows, Chandler might be right? Please review, but no angry reviews... I tend to get them often..._


	2. Chapter One- Don't fall in love

_Thirteen reviews for a Friends angst story? Wow! That's actually amazing, thank you so much... I'm glad you all are liking this! Sorry for the long delay in updating._

**Masked and anonymous- **Thank you so much! :)

**Bnoelled1519- **Arrrw, thanks. I'm thrilled you're enjoying this.

**dizuz- **Thank you for reviewing... 3

**Hehe- **Yey! Someone who likes angst too... Thank you.

**Veridissima- **Thanks sweetie!

**FriendsTVFiction- **THANK YOU, so pleased that you're in support of this... And I have read some of your stories, they're very good!

**Shyfighter- **Oooh, I'm blushing! Thank you. As to whether Monica is alive or not... You'll have to wait & see. ;)

**VioletLili- **Thanks, I'm glad the emotions are coming across realistically. But this isn't really a Go On crossover- Go On is a lot lighter than this, and in the later chapters it may get a little... darker. Thank you for reviewing!

**Guest- **THANKS

**HOLSTA2000- **Wow, what an amazing review! A thanks so much for saying that, it's lovely for any writer to hear their story is good!

**hugefriendfan- **Thank you... I don't know if it was you who wrote a story and took it down a while back because someone said it was close to 'Class'? Well, if it was you, PUT IT BACK UP, I read it and didn't get a chance to review... I don't own the idea, so please don't ever be intimidated that someone thinks it's similar, you didn't take my work at all, we just were on a similar wave length. Apologies if it was someone else, but I really wanted to get this across.

**Ghee Butersnaps15- **Thank you soooooo much! :D

**Me- **:Thank you for reviewing.

_Thanks everyone for reviewing, here's the next chapter guys! _

**Chapter 1- Don't fall in love**

Joey rapped his knuckled loudly and repeatedly against the door of his best friend's bathroom, swallowing back the rising lump of fear in his throat, he shuddered as an ice cold rush panic rattled through his bones.

"Chandler, are you alright in there?" Joey called, his voice wavering slightly, cracking under the mounting worry, he pressed his ear against the door and strained to hear movement through the thick wood, but there was nothing, just that horrible bitter silence that stuck fright into his heart.

He was worried about his friend, petrified actually, because the man that they all knew and loved wasn't there anymore, that man had been replaced by someone so heartbroken and grief-stricken that he was driving himself into an early grave, balancing on the edge of sanity, convinced that despite all the evidence out there, Monica was still alive. He was drinking and smoking and slowly giving up with everything. Chandler wasn't Chandler anymore, not since Monica was snatched out of his life, after only a year of marriage. And although none of them had said it, they were all worried that Chandler might give up all together soon.

Joey knocked louder on the door, his heart hammering against his ribcage as he waited, but once again heard nothing. He took a small step back, then barged through the locked bathroom door with his shoulder, breaking the lock in the process with an almighty crash.

The smell hit him, hard, and he gagged violently as the strong, overwhelming stench of vomit and alcohol burnt his nostrils. A look of disgust graced his features, his nose crinkling reflexively at the unpleasant smell. Joey grimaced as he ran his fingers through his hair and looked around the bathroom; he kicked aside an empty bottle of whisky and sidestepped into the room, holding his breath.

For a moment he felt like running out of the bathroom and getting someone else to deal with his friend, but the moment his eyes landed upon Chandler, his heart sunk in his chest and he realised that having someone else seeing Chandler in this state wouldn't do them or Chandler any good. A look of concern replaced the look of disgust and a flourish of protectiveness washed over him. He looked a mess.

Chandler was passed out cold, shivering slightly on the bathroom floor, half slumped against the bathtub. He was still wearing the exact same tattered and stained outfit he had been when Joey had last seen him. He had really let himself go since Monica had died... He was thinner than Joey had ever seen him before, his hair was long, unkempt and dirty and his face looked gaunt and skeletal, his eyes sunk right back into his skull and carried purple bags beneath them. It was sickening, his complexion was so pale and grey and he looked so much older than his thirty-three years, actually, it didn't even look like Chandler at all.

The corners of Joey's eyes burnt with tears as he walked towards Chandler, avoiding the puddle of vomit next to him. He crouched down slowly and shook his shoulders firmly.

"Chandler, c'mon, get up."

"Mmmmnnnhhhrr," Chandler groaned, slurring slightly.

"Come on, Chandler," Joey said, pulling him up.

Chandler's eyes opened to reveal two sunken blood-shot eyes, his pupils darted around the bathroom blindly, obviously very drunk and unable to focus on anything.

"Jo-Joey?"

"Yeah, it's me," Joey said quietly, "Come on," he repeated. It was painful seeing him like this, he was way out of his depths... he thought he'd seen Chandler depressed before, but this was... this was more than depressed, this was excruciating.

Chandler blinked rapidly and shook his head, "Leave me alone," he said gruffly. He felt terrible, his head was pounding, throbbing, he felt heavy, like his bones were filled with lead.

"Chandler, you need to sleep this off," Joey said, "And you can't do that on the bathroom floor."

Why couldn't they leave him alone for once? Chandler breathed deeply through his nostrils, he knew he was drinking too much but the pain of not seeing Monica was... it was indescribable, it was suffocating and agonising and horrible and everything hurt, he thought that alcohol might numb the pain, but all it had given him was a head ache and guilt. He looked up at his friend and barely recognised him, in the four months since Monica had gone- _not_ died- he hadn't really spoken to anyone unless he was trying to convince them that Monica was still out there. Why no one would believe him, he didn't know.

"Leave me alone," he said again.

Joey shook his head, "Not gonna happen, buddy," he said, trying to sound positive, even though Joey knew that the moment he left the apartment, he would cry again. He was losing Chandler. He had already lost Monica, one of his best friends, someone he loved... and now he was losing Chandler too...

Chandler sighed and tried to stand, but slipped back down again, moaning loudly. Joey put his arm under his shoulder and hauled him clumsily out of the bathroom, supporting most of his weight as Chandler stumbled and staggered blindly. Chandler flopped onto couch, sprawling across it, closing his eyes to stop the room from spinning.

"We're really worried about you, Chandler," Joey told him.

"Don't be, I'm f-fine," Chandler slurred, "I don't need a babysitter."

Joey shuffled his feet awkwardly, "We, errm, we think you need help."

Chandler covered his face with his hands, "What is it with everyone thinking I need help, I dun-need help, I'm fine?"

"We're all just scared, Chandler," Joey commented, "Maybe you should see therapist or something."

"I'm not crazy," Chandler argued, squeezing his eyes shut tightly, his head was still spinning drunkenly, "I know that Mo-" he paused, choking up as he tried to say his wife's name, "I know she's alive."

Joey bit his lip, "You really believe that, don't you?"

"Yes I do."

Joey touched his friends shoulder, but Chandler shrugged it off angrily, "Don't touch me," he snapped before pulling himself into a sitting position, he looked at Joey with tears in his eyes, "Why won't you believe me?" he whispered, sounding suddenly so vulnerable

"It's not that we don't believe you," Joey replied slowly, "We just, you can't argue with evidence-"

"There is no evidence," Chandler said, "People don't vanish, why can't you... why can't anyone see that?"

"I don't want to argue with you," Joey said, "Rachel already told me what you said to her..."

Chandler grumbled indignantly, "I thought that you of all people would stand by me."

"What?"

"You're supposed to be my best friend-"

"I am."

"Then why won't you support me?" Chandler asked, shaking slightly.

Joey shook his head, "I'm not gonna have this conversation, Chandler, you're drunk... And- and I have a date."

Chandler scoffed, "Big surprise there," he rolled his eyes.

Joey's jaw clenched, "You know what, just talk to me when you're sober... and apologise to Rachel too, you really upset her."

"Leave me alone," Chandler said.

"We care about you, Chandler," Joey said, "But, I can't talk to you when you're like this... I've got to go."

Chandler closed his eyes as he heard Joey walking away, "Joey?"

Joey paused, "What now?" he asked.

"Don't fall in love, okay?" Chandler said, shuffling slightly to look up at him, Joey sighed and looked back at him. "I'm sorry about shouting at you," Chandler sniffed slightly, "I just- I can't think straight anymore, I miss her so much and I- I don't want you to go through this... So just don't fall in love."

**...**

_What do you think? I hope I'm not making Chandler out a jerk, but this is my interpretation of how he'd be... I'll try & update soon, but I'm back in education now after nearly a year out, so I'm trying to get into the swing of things again._


	3. Chapter 2- Haunted Eyes

**dizuz: **Thank you so much for reviewing, I'm pleased you think this is relatively believable.

**Veridissima: **Thanks for reviewing!

**missineichen: **Wow, what a wonderful review! Thanks so much, I'm really pleased that you're enjoying this, and I think Chandler has the potential to be quite dark, if pushed... And thank you for the comment about my language, I'm actually from Israel, so I grew up speaking Hebrew and a little bit or Arabic, I did learn a little English in my school years, but they never teach you useful stuff, do they? :')

**HOLSTA2000: **Oh thank you so much. I'm trying to incorporate the others in, not just Chandler, so I'm glad you liked the scenes with Joey in.

**hugefriendsfan: **Yey, you put the story back up! :D Thanks for the review.

**Shyfighter: **Thank you so much, for the review and the good luck message too. You're so sweet, thanks.

**FriendsTvFiction: **Arrww, thanks!

**Ghee Buttersnaps15: **Oh thank you so much, seriously, thanks! You're review was so kind, I really do appreciate the good luck message!

_Seriously everyone, thank you so much for reviewing, favouriting, following or even just reading my story. It means so much to me that you all take the time to read through my work, you are all some of the kindest, friendliest and sweetest people ever, you're so supportive of me and for that I thank you. I couldn't think of a fandom that I would rather write for. Thank you again, here's the next chapter for you, I don't own friends either. Please enjoy._

**Chapter Two- Haunted Eyes.**

No one would look him in the eyes, as he stared out of the window with a haunting and chilling intensity, people would look away and avoid the unearthly air of pain and depression that warped into the depths of his deep, sparkling blue eyes. No one would look at him in the face either; they looked around him, or through him. No one wanted to know that man with the broken heart. Even today as he sat in the front seat of Phoebe's Grandmother's cab, Chandler felt as if he was carrier of the plague. Perhaps they all knew, even strangers, that he was in no mood to talk to anyone today, perhaps his blank face gave away more than he thought he was letting on. He'd catch them staring at him, looking at his gaunt face, but the moment he turned around to look at them, they'd all shrink away or suddenly become very interested in a spot on the floor.

He didn't mind that no one wanted to know him today, though, because he didn't want to know anyone either. He wanted to stay inside and mope around like he had done for the last four-or-so months, but they made him come, and what kind of man would he be if he missed his own wife's memorial service? _Memorial service, _even thinking of those words made him shudder.

He was too young to be considered a widower, too young to be on-route to a memorial service. Most men or women who were widowers were elderly, and had years upon years to spent with their beloved. Not like Chandler and Monica, they only got the one year together before she was snatched out of his life like this... The pain of losing her was indescribable, horrible. Chandler knew for certain that most widowers knew for sure that their spouse was dead. Chandler on the other hand, did not know. She could be out there, and he knew that they all thought it was crazy, but Chandler was hopelessly convinced that somewhere out there was Monica, cold and cared and alone, needing him like he needed her.

Whether he thought she was alive or not didn't matter though, the chilling novelty of going to a memorial service for Monica was enough to make him feel sick. He thought he was going to throw up; he needed a drink or something, _anything_ to make the pain go away.

He could vaguely hear Phoebe talking to him, but he wasn't listening. He wanted to get out of the cab, the small yellow vehicle was hot and stuffy and the collar of his shirt felt so tight, it was suffocating... He couldn't breathe.

He hadn't had much to do with the planning of this service, but they'd ran the plans by him. He knew that the service was in Long Island, at the church that her family attended when she was a little girl, but that's about all he knew- that and the fact he had to give a speech about her. He was dreading that most. He didn't know what to say, "Monica is still alive," certainly wouldn't go down well, but the moment he started talking about her, he knew that he'd break down in front of everyone. He didn't want to do that, he didn't want everyone to look at him with pity, offer him drinks and tell him "If you need anything, give me a call."

Phoebe's hand waved in front of his face and he jumped slightly, startled momentarily before tearing his eyes away from the road. He looked at Phoebe and she sighed, "We're here, Chandler," she told him quietly.

Chandler nodded slowly and swallowed, he could feel the stinging of tears in his eyes already, his fingers twitched. He needed a drink.

"Are you okay?" Phoebe asked him.

"Yeah," Chandler nodded, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "This is the happiest fucking day of my life."

Phoebe sighed again and glared half-heartedly at him, but even she refused to meet his eyes, "Come on, they're probably waiting for us."

Chandler's heart sunk in his chest and his eyes flickered back towards the church, a crowd of black dress clad people waited outside, heads hung in misery, "I can't do this, Pheebs," he whispered, sounding more apologetic and vulnerable than before, he looked away from the crowd.

Phoebe's expression softened, "Yes you can," she said, "You have to."

"I don't want to," he admitted, "I-I can't face all the people, the pity... I can't do this."

"You're gonna have to," Phoebe told him.

"It's not fair," Chandler said, trembling slightly, "I shouldn't have to do this, Monica might not even be-"

"Chandler," Phoebe cut him off, "Now isn't the time for this, okay."

Chandler nodded slowly, suddenly feeling so small. He couldn't do this, getting out the cab and walking into that church would be like admitting defeat.

"Come on," Phoebe said again, "It's time to say goodbye."

Chandler shook his head again, "I don't want to say goodbye."

Phoebe reached out and took one his clammy hands in hers, "I know, no one does."

"I miss her so much," Chandler said, "I don't want to let go. I don't want to move on."

"No one expects you to move on just yet, Chandler," Phoebe gave his hand a squeeze, "One day, you will be able to move on, find someone you love."

"I will never be able to replace Monica," Chandler said.

"I know," Phoebe said, "Come on, Chandler. Let's go, okay."

Chandler took a deep, shaky breath and nodded, biting his lip slowly, "I still don't believe she's dead," he told Phoebe. She opened her mouth to answer, but then closed it and nodded. Now wasn't the time to argue. Now was the time to remember.

**...**

Chandler took a long gulp of the cheap wine and looked around the room. So many people were there. Family, friends, colleagues. Monica had touched so many lives.

"Hey, man," Ross said, walking over to him slowly, looking rough as well.

Chandler put the empty wineglass down and looked at his brother-in-law, "There are so many people here," he observed.

"Yeah, well my sister was a very popular person," Ross said, shuffling his feet awkwardly, no one knew what to say to Chandler anymore... One word wrong and he'd break down. Losing Monica was tearing their group apart, the group's dynamics had changed so much, Monica would hate to see her friends so awkward around each other like this.

"Do you remember when I found out about you and Monica?" Ross asked.

Chandler nodded, "When you saw us going at it through the window," he said, half-smiling at the memory.

"Yeah," Ross smiled, "That night, Monica had dinner with me and she wouldn't shut up about you, she was like a teenager, I'd never seen her so happy," Ross said, "You made her happy, Chandler, even if you two didn't get long together."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Ross nodded, "What I mean is, you made my sister happier than anyone else could of, thank you."

Chandler looked at Ross and sighed, before giving him a brief friendly hug, Chandler bit his lip, he was about to cry, he knew it.

"Oh my God," Ross said as they pulled out of the hug, "What's _he_ doing here?"

Chandler looked around in confusion, but then he saw him. Richard.

"I have no idea," Chandler said quietly, his emotions half way between sad and angry, "Didn't you invite him?" Chandler asked.

"No, Dad must've invited him; do you want me to get rid of him?" Ross asked, sounding a little stiff and hostile.

Chandler looked at Richard for a moment and shook his head, "No," he said, "I'll be right back," he said, before slowly approaching his wife's ex-boyfriend.

"Richard, what're you doing here?" Chandler asked, trying to sound courteous.

"Jack, errm, he mentioned about the service," Richard said, "I hope you don't mind, I can leave."

Chandler shook his head, he seemed so genuinely said, "No, stay," Chandler said.

"Look, I'm sorry," Richard said, detecting Chandler wasn't comfortable with him being there, "I'm not here to cause any arguments or make you feel uncomfortable but I-I wanted to say goodbye, you know," he explained sadly, shrinking under Chandler's stare.

"It's fine," Chandler said. If this was any other time, he'd want to throw this man out- he nearly ruined what he and Monica had after-all, but this was a service for Monica, he had the right to say goodbye too.

"I never really apologised for trying to take Monica, have I?" Richard said, "I didn't want to hurt you, it wasn't personal, you know that, right? I just- I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't at least try and see her again."

Chandler shook his head slightly, hardly believing he was listening to this. He stopped a passing waitress and picked up another glass of wine and drunk heavily from it.

"I'm making you uncomfortable, aren't I?" Richard asked, "I'm sorry, I just wanted to say goodbye, I have a new girlfriend, but I want to say goodbye..."

"It's fine," Chandler said slowly, staring at the wine to avoid looking at Richard.

"Chandler," Ross called from across the room, "It's time to give your speech."

Chandler inhaled shakily and downed the rest of the wine, "Excuse me," he muttered to Richard.

**...**

_I hope to have the next chapter up soon, which will include Chandler's speech about Monica. I hope the mention of Richard didn't send you all running, but I wanted to break the whole Richard-is-the-devil thing that's going on in most ff's these days, I mean, I hate him sometimes (especially in TOW the proposal), but there's Richard-evil, then fan fiction Richard- evil. Did that make a word of sense to you? I hope I haven't confused you. Please review, thank you for reading._


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